Violet Potter and the Wizarding World
by LemonTears
Summary: My name is Violet Potter. This is the death defying, life inspiring and sometimes vomit inducing story that my twin brother Harry and I shared as we fell down the black hole of witches, wizards, prophecies and psychotic murderers. {Eventual OCxDraco}{Loosely follows canon, but new plot to come}
1. Book One: Prologue

**Authors Note: Hello to all the souls who decide to read this. I have recently been re-reading the Harry Potter series, and like others I have wanted to see Harry with a twin, so I thought why not make my own story. I know this has been done before, but I want to write my own version. It will start Canon, but will definitely take a very different turn. Yes this will be OCxDraco, eventually from what I've planned, but things could change as I keep writing. This will be a slow burn romance though, I'm not here to write two people who have very opposite personalities just falling for each other in the blink of an eye.**

 **Anyways, I hope you all enjoy Violet Potter, and this story, because I have a lot of fun writing it!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own HP or any of the original HP characters.**

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Prologue:

It was a beautiful day, nearing the end of November. The Britain air was crisp and snowfall made Godrich's hollow look serene and almost angelic, despite the stark stone buildings and gnarled, bare trees. It was in the front garden of one such house that Lily Potter stood, waiting excitedly for her husbands return.

Lily Potter was not one to wait around for her husband of course, she was not that kid of woman. She was strong, independent and certainly not a "house-wife" sort. But today of all days, was just so special that she couldn't help but wade through the snow in anticipation for her husbands arrival.

She had quite tremendous news of course.

James, unsuspecting of such news though, was quite confused to find his wife outside waiting for him. He had been off meeting with his friends, who would be coming along for dinner that night as they usually did. Sirius and Remus couldn't cook for their lives, and without Lily, they may have starved by now.

"Lily?" James asked as he walked up to his wife. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Oh, I haven't been out long," She assured, though her bright pink nose and frozen fingers were not testament to that. "James, I just had the best news and I couldn't wait for you to come home?"

"News? Great news?" James asked, his stomach becoming a flutter with possibility. "Could it be that Voldemort has finally been finished?"

Lily shook her head, and though she would normally feel quite grim about the fact that the terrible wizard was still on his reign of terror, she was too happy to mind at the moment. "Better!"

"Better than that?" James chuckled humorously, but then blinked. "What could be better than that?"

"This!" Lily squeaked quite happily and pulled out what looked like a white stick with some kind of blue cap. There was a little panel on the side of it that showed a pink plus sign. James looked at it, trying to figure out a) what it was, b) why it was so exciting to his wife and c) really, what was it?

He took it in his hands and turned it over a few times. "What is it?" Lily just laughed at him and James sighed. "You know I'm no good at muggle artifacts Lil."

Lily rubbed her frozen hands together and grinned, her freckled cheeks looked absolutely rosy. "Well you see, muggle women use this stick. They pee on it and-"

"Oh!?" James exclaimed, letting go of the stick to let it drop to the snow, but Lily was fast and grabbed it before it could fall. "Why in the world would you give this to me!?"

"Would you listen!" Lily laughed and shoved his arm playfully. "We pee on the stick and it tells us the most magical news. It shows us whether or not we are pregnant!"

James felt his heart skip a beat. "Oh!?" He repeated, flabbergasted. "A-And...?"

Lily raised it up so the man could see it. "You see that plus sign?"

"Yes..."

"That means I'm pregnant! We're pregnant! We're going to have a baby!"

James took a moment to process that information. "We're... You and me?" Lily nodded. James continued sputtering, "Having... a... We're having a baby?" Lily nodded again, as if she was a bobble head. James sucked in a breath. He couldn't believe it.

"We're having a baby!" He yelled, this time far more excited. He dashed forward and scooped up the woman he loved within his arms and spun her around. Lily laughed excitedly, happy tears coming to her eyes.

"We are, we really are!"

"Give me this!" James said and snatched the pregnancy test from the woman's hand, no longer caring about the small fact that she had peed on the stick. It was all right here; he was going to have a child. A baby. He was going to be a father and Lily and him would be parents.

Lily seemed pleased by his reaction, and she couldn't keep her excitement inside her body anymore. She let out a happy shriek and tackled her husband to the ground, landing safely, albeit coldly, in a pile of snow. The two giggled together like school children.

Later that evening, when the two had gone inside and gotten warm by the fire together, talking about their future, the front door opened and in came none other than Remus and Sirius, looking rather frosty. They looked over at the couple cuddling by the flames and smiled.

"Well looky looky who's getting all warm and cozy." Sirius snickered. "Lily and James, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"

Lily snickered as James sat up and threw his drying mitten at the man. "Shut it you," James laughed, "Not even your incessant badgering can annoy me today."

"What has you so charmed this evening?" Remus asked as he came closer to the heat of the house.

James jumped up from the couch and produced a small white stick with a blue cap on it from his pocket. He held it like a precious treasure. "This?"

"You're excited because of... a pen?" Sirius asked, looking at the muggle artifact in confusion.

"Are you dumb?" James laughed haughtily. Lily rolled her eyes and stood up, coming to his side, as if the man hadn't known what it was only a few hours ago.

"You see, Lily peed on that-"

"Ugh!" Sirius groaned in disgust and threw it back at James.

"-And it told her that she's pregnant! We're having a child!"

"You two? A child!?" Sirius gasped, a large grin spreading to his face. "Congratulations!" He opened his arms wide and gave Lily a hug before pulling his friend into a brotherly embrace.

"That's amazing." Remus grinned, also going in for his round of hugs.

Lily smiled. "I found out today. But wait, where is Peter?"

Sirius sighed, "He said he couldn't come today. He's been quite busy these days it seems."

"Ah, well we will have to tell him the fantastic news another day." James smiled and rest his hand on Lily's stomach.

"Well!" Sirius exclaimed, "Have you thought of names!?"

"Sirius, they only just found out." Remus snorted.

"Well, actually..." Lily giggled.

"We've been talking about this for a while and we decided Harry for a boy." James grinned dreamily. It follows the Potter tradition.

"And Violet if it's a girl." Lily smiled and rest her hand overtop her husbands on her stomach. "Most the women in the Evan's family were named after flowers... And Violets are beautiful."

"Well, lets hope if the child is a girl she'll take after her mother, because a female James-" Sirius chuckled to himself until he was smacked in the stomach by James.

The four laughed the night away, quite excited by big news. Little did they know that a few months later they would find out that they would be needing both names.

Harry and Violet Potter.

Twins. Both with black hair, both with their mothers forest green eyes, both looking chubby, happy, perfect. Violet had come first, crying so loudly, they were certain that the whole world was being announced of her arrival. Behind her eyes was an intelligence, tremendous curiosity and beautiful happiness. Second came Harry, much quieter than his sister before him. His green eyes were peaceful, calm and just as beautifully happy.

The twins took to each other, loving one another and hated being separated. They loved their family and were both loved by Remus, Sirius and especially Lily and James.

Who would have known one short year with their extraordinary children was all Lily and James would have before meeting their untimely demise.

What a hauntingly spectacular last year that had been.

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 **And there we are, the prologue. I hope you all enjoyed it. A long first chapter to introduce our twins and their relationship coming up next~!**


	2. Book One: Chapter One

**Book One - 1. Violet Potter and the Very Bad Beginning**

Most children the age of 10 wake up from their sleep each morning to their mothers soft cooing, or coddling. They would go downstairs to a good breakfast of bacon and eggs, some toast, or at least sugary cereal that would sufficiently rot their teeth. Their fathers would be reading the newspaper and cheerfully comment on the weather and call their kid "champ" or "sport" or "little prince or princess". Their mother would serve the food and laugh and talk and all would be bright. They would love spending time with their child that they brought into the world and wouldn't at all be bothered by their presence. That's how mornings with the family should be for most children.

Unfortunately for me and my twin brother, we were not most children

"Up! Now! Get up!" Came the incessant shrieking that was the usual morning call for us.

Sadly for us, there was no soft morning cuddles or hugs or pancakes and syrup, no no, what we were faced with was a shrieking, skulking dragon lady. But maybe even dragon was too kind for her. At least dragons were cool.

"We better get up." Harry, my twin brother, younger by ten minutes might I add, groaned from beside me as he woke up. No one would be able to sleep with such yelling.

"And if I don't want to?" I sighed from beside him, squished against the cool wall.

"You know that's not an option."

Ever since our parents passed away ten years ago, my brother and I were sent to live with our Aunt Petunia, her husband Vernon, and their child, Dudley. "Oh you are so fortunate," some would say, "that your sweet aunt and uncle took you in rather than having you sent off to some orphanage!"

Besides telling two orphan children they were rather "fortunate" that their parents had died and they wound up there, they were wrong about one other thing. Harry and I would have been much happier at an orphanage.

"Up!" Aunt Petunia shrieked again.

I rolled over as best I could and shoved my face in my brothers back. "Don't make me go out there. I hate them."

"I do too, but at least they take care of us... kinda." Harry sighed. I looked up at him as I cleared the sleep from my eyes. Harry and I looked a lot alike, then again, what could we expect? We were twins. We had the same pale skin, the same knobby knees and small skinny body type. We had the same black hair, though mine was long and wavy and fell down to my hips, parting in the middle of my forehead. His was short, cut across his forehead with bangs, and stuck up every which way. Luckily I had a softer jaw line then him, fuller lips and a smattering of brown freckles across my cheeks and nose so we weren't completely unidentifiable besides the hair. Oddly enough though, we both shared the same scar; a small lightning bolt shaped cut in our foreheads. His lay on the right side, and mine on the left, almost as if the scar from his forehead carried onto mine in a perfect match. We had always wondered where they came from, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hated questions more than anything.

"Are you up yet!?" The woman continued to squawk.

"Nearly!" Harry called.

"Well hurry it up then, the bacon will burn!"

Harry was always the voice of reason. Out of the two of us, he was the calm one and I was the troublesome one. Harry always minded his words, tried to be the best he could within reason for our awful aunt and uncle. He took so much hatred from them and tried to wear it out. That didn't mean he was spineless of course, there was times when he lost his temper, but his threshold of handling such situations were better than me. I, on the other hand, could often be seen getting in trouble. Specifically by Aunt Petunia. Since I was a girl, she believed that I should act just like a lady, but that was a load of bull toad. I was hot headed, loved to play in the mud and rough house with Harry. The only slightly feminine thing I did was read, and that wasn't even very feminine! One time, Aunt Petunia had tried to send me to some etiquette class where all the little girls raised their pinkies as they sipped tea. I showed up in my ratty overalls and braided hair and needless to say I was kicked out the very first day.

If it weren't for the fact that I loved Harry so much, I would have snuck away years ago. Maybe as soon as I was able to talk and walk.

"Where are the..." Harry mumbled, trying to look around the small space we called a bedroom, which just so happened to be the closet underneath the stairs.

"Glasses?" I asked and slowly sat up, careful not to smack my head against one of the stairs like I had done so many times before. "Here." I passed over the wire frame glasses we both shared. It was apparent early on that we both had poor sight, and when Uncle Vernon came home with one pair of glasses, we were both quite confused. "Why waste perfectly good money on two pairs of glasses when you can just share?"

Out of the two of us, I believed Harry deserved the glasses more, so I often told him I was fine without them, but only needed them for reading. So the glasses were his during the day, but mine during the night. It wasn't ideal, but it had worked for the past years. I would take having blurry vision for my whole life if it meant Harry could see.

I reached over him to grab my overalls, my usual attire. Whatever shirt I had slept in with my overalls slapped on top was often what adorned my small body. I rolled around in the tiny bed we had to share under the stairs, trying to pull them on. When I had finished fussing and Harry too had gotten dressed in his oversized hand-me-downs, he grabbed the brush and began to comb through my hair as he always did, braiding them into two neat cords down my back. I was no good at things like that, so I was glad Harry had figured out how.

Fully dressed and ready for the day, despite my desire to just stay in bed and read all day, the two of us crawled out from the cupboard under the stairs and stretched. Ten year old children shouldn't be cracking the way we did.

Aunt Petunia spotted us from the kitchen and waved us forward with her bony skeleton claw that had perfectly manicured French tip nails.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were insufferable. If there was a prize for the most dreadfully, awfully, terribly boring people in the whole world, these two would win it. And they would be happy to win too!

Aunt Petunia was a tall, skinny, severe looking lady who had far too much neck, scaly looking saggy skin and reminded me of some kind of Giraffe, lizard hybrid. She spent her time being a "wonderful" stay at home mother to her child, an "extraordinary" wife to her husband, and all around "good" neighbour. If being a good neighbour meant sneakily thieving the coupon pages from next door and craning her long neck over the hedges to spy on those living close by.

"Violet watch the bacon. Harry, set the table. I need everything perfect for ickle Duddykins birthday." She demanded

Harry and I looked at each other and both internally groaned. How could we have forgotten? It was Dudley's birthday.

Dudley was our cousin, the monstrous devil spawn of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He had grown up with a gold spoon in his mouth, absolutely spoiled rotten by his parents. And as such, he was the biggest, most annoying pig on the planet. His hobbies included picking on Harry, picking on me, picking his nose, and then picking on Harry and me some more.

"Mummy! I don't want Violet to touch my bacon! She'll give it all her girl cooties!" Dudley cried to his mother when he entered the kitchen and saw me standing at the stove, giving me a nasty smirk when she wasn't looking.

"Oh of course my baby Duddy-dumpling!" She turned and glared at me. "Violet set the table. Harry do the bacon and don't let it burn."

I frowned. Dudley knew I hated to set the table because it meant I had to do dishes after breakfast. And dishes were so dreadful. I felt like sobbing every time I touched a soggy bit of food.

Once his attention wasn't set on terrorizing both Harry and I, he was quickly caught up by the sight of all his presents. "Thirty five... thirty six... thirty six!?" He exclaimed, "That's two less than last year."

Seeing as her son was about to go into full meltdown mode, she came forward and part his head. "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?" Petunia urged quickly, looking to her husband who was quite unaware of the meltdown and was glued to the newspaper. "Right honey?"

Vernon looked up. He reminded me of a giant red tomato. He was round with multiple chins, was rather pink in the face and had an awful caterpillar like moustache on-top of his lip. "Huh? Ah yes. More presents for the young tyke!" He said.

"So I'll have thirty ... thirty..." Dudley muttered, trying to do the math in that thick skull of his.

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh. Alright." This seemed satisfactory for Dudley because he didn't go nuclear tantrum mode.

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

Just then, the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia whisked off to grab it. Meanwhile, Dudley set to work at opening his presents; a new bike, a new tv, a vcr player, many vcr tapes, a new computer with new computer games. By the time Aunt Petunia got back, he had tore through half of his birthday presents.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head in Harry and my direction.

Harry looked at me, I looked back, and we shared a secret, excited smile. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to theme parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry and I were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. The whole house reeked of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made us look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at us as though we'd somehow planned this.

I prayed that she just let us stay home. We were rarely ever left alone in the house. If we were, we would have the chance to play outside, or watch the TV or read any book we wanted.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested. "Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the lot of them." Aunt Petunia shook her head.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Harry suggested hopefully.

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"I might." I mumbled.

"I suppose we could take them to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave them in the car..."

"That car's new, they're not sitting in it alone..."

This was when Volcano Dudley decided to erupt. He let out a ear numbing wail that would make dogs cry. He flailed his thick arms and legs. Of course, he wasn't actually crying, but he knew if he acted as if the world was ending, his mother and father would give him anything.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" Aunt Petunia cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I... don't... want... them... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "They always sp-spoil everything!"

The doorbell chimes and Aunt Petunia let out a sigh of relief as she skittered off to the front door while saying, "oh goodness they're finally here."

She opened the door, and none other than my worst nightmare walked through. Piers Polkis. He was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat.

Dudley liked to focus the brute force of his bullying on Harry, maybe because I was less interesting than Harry, or maybe because I fought back more when Dudley attacked me, even more likely because I was a girl. Which was completely unfair, because I could totally kick his butt. But no, I got stuck with Piers. He was my personal assailant.

Whenever he saw me, he would take to pulling my braids, calling me names like "wussy girl" or "stupid idiot girl" which I thought were the least creative names one could imagine. He liked to tell me I had cooties, and not only that I was an orphan, I was also diseased with being a girl. According to him and Dudley, girls were far inferior beings. I felt sorry for whichever poor sods ended up with these brick heads.

Half an hour later, Dudley, Piers, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Harry and I were standing outside the house on 4 Privet Drive, all staring at the car.

"Well he haven't enough room." Aunt Petunia huffed.

"What are you talking about? Three can sit in the back and one will go in the boot of the car." Uncle Vernon said indignantly, as if that wasn't a terrible idea. It was obvious the only going in the trunk wouldn't be Dudley or Piers.

"You can't be serious! That's dangerous!" Harry said in disbelief.

Uncle Vernon turned those dark eyes on Harry. If there was one thing he hated, it was us questioning him, talking back or talking in general. Before he could subject Harry to a good screaming, I stepped in front of him.

"I'll do it!" I volunteered. "I'll go in the trunk."

"What!?" Harry gasped and looked at me like I was crazy. "You could get hurt!"

"I have tough skin." I assured him and gave him the best smile I could.

Uncle Vernon snorted. "There, you see, at least one of you little retches has some sense!"

Piers and Dudley got a kick out of this, chuckling happily as they slid into the back seat of Uncle Vernon's car. Uncle Vernon popped the boot of the car opened and looked at me. "C'mon then."

I turned to Harry's worried face and gave him my best smile. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. It's only a short ride anyways!"

"What if you're hurt?" He asked and I smiled. Harry was always so kind to me.

I snorted and waved him off, "What? I'm your tough older sister. Do you not believe in me?"

"You're only ten minutes older." Harry sighed, but didn't say more because Uncle Vernon was getting impatient, so I gave Harry a quick hug in case it was, by chance, the last time I would see him and I would end up dying in the boot of the car.

I made sure Harry was in the back before I climbed into the trunk. There was various objects in the back, old smelly golf clothes, some mulch for the garden, but nothing that could seriously injure me.

"Listen you," Uncle Vernon growled at me. He hated me the most out of Harry and I, for I wasn't afraid of giving him some lip. "No funny business back here. Be quiet. And don't throw up in my car!"

"No promises!" I barked back.

He looked absolutely furious at my attitude. He growled, his big cheeks turning red, and he slammed the trunk down, engulfing me in darkness. Well this would be fun.

The ride there was no more brutal than being tossed around by Dudley and Piers. Each bump though, sent my small body skyrocketing around. I found out quickly that I would jumble around a lot less if I clung to the heavy bag of mulch.

I was sure Harry wasn't having a very fun time witting with Dudley and Piers, but at least he wasn't in as much physical danger. Some people may find it odd and weird, but to me, I was Harry's older sister. I would do anything to protect him. Sure I was only ten minutes older, but in my eyes, Harry was my precious younger sibling. He was all I had in this world and was one of the only things that filled me with joy. I would do anything for him, including laying my life down for him.

An indefinite amount of time later, the car lurched to a stop and I felt the car shift as the people got out. I heard Harry's muffled voice urging Uncle Vernon to hurry up and let me out, and Uncle Vernon hissing back at Harry to "quiet up, I don't want anyone to notice we had a brat in our trunk!"

The boot of the car popped open, and the bright light assaulted my eyes. Harry was there next to Uncle Vernon, offering me his hands to help pull me out. Uncle Vernon didn't seem liked he cared all too much. "Hurry up now, before someone sees!" He growled.

Harry assisted me out so I wouldn't tumble onto the pavement, and held onto my hand tightly as we followed the others. We often got made fun of, but Harry and I took comfort in holding hands as we walked around. Maybe it was a twin thing, but we agreed that we felt much more whole when we were together.

They had brought us to the zoo for Dudley's big birthday excursion, and we couldn't have been more pleased. We both loved animals.

Uncle Vernon stopped us before we could head through the ticket booth though. "I'm warning you," he said, putting his large, red, veiny face right up close to our faces. "I'm warning you now, any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"We're not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly.."

But it wouldnt matter what we said, because the truth was, weird things happened around me and Harry all the time.

One time, Uncle Vernon had spotted Harry's hair from overtop of his newspaper and exclaimed that Harry needed a "bloody haircut to stop it from going every which way". It's not like Harry could help it, it just grew that way. But Uncle Vernon wouldn't have that. He had Aunt Petunia shave his hair, leaving only his bangs to cover the scar on his forehead. It was bad enough mine was visible. That night, I had to hold Harry as he cried and worried about what the kids at school would say the next day. But wouldn't you know it, the day after, Harry's hair had all grown back.

Another time, I had been sneaking around outside the cupboard at night, trying to steal some treats for Harry and I, and I couldn't quite see. "It's so bloody dark in here." I had muttered, but suddenly, the room had been flooded in warm light. All of the candles in the kitchen and living room had suddenly flicked on. I had been so shocked I didn't know what to do.

And of course there was other times that I hadn't even told Harry about because I was so surprised. Like the one time I was forced to help Aunt Petunia shear her dead roses from the garden, but they game back to life with just my touch. Or the time I picked up a baby bird at school that had fallen from a tree and broken a wing, only for it to suddenly get better only seconds after I took it. How was I supposed to explain that to Harry!? Maybe I was possessed by a demon or had some magical powers!? But that couldn't be real.

But not today. We wouldn't do anything today. We just couldn't. It was one of the first times we were allowed outside of the house without the reason being school, chores or going to Mrs. Figg's cat house.

Harry and I had a wonderful morning; one of the best ones we had had in a long time. We got to see all kinds of animals like colourful birds, shiny insects, a cheeta and even an hippo (that may have thought Uncle Vernon was its brother). The two of us walked a little ways back from the others so that we might steer clear of Piers and Dudley's torturing if they got bored. We even were allowed to order off the kids menu at the restaurant and both got oily, salty chicken fingers and fries which to two kids who mainly ate porridge and eggs and bread, was quite the treat.

Of course, we really should have known such happiness wouldn't last forever.

After lunch we headed to the reptile house, a dimly lit sanctuary that held all the reptile and amphibians cages. The air was cool against my skin and it felt rather welcoming despite how some may thing it seemed creepy.

Harry squeezed my hand excitedly and pointed out different types of lizards to me, reading their signs since he was in charge of the glasses and I couldn't read well without them. Dudley and Piers, on the other hand, wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, deadly, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly spotted the largest snake in the reptile house and pressed his face up close. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can, but at the moment it didn't look in

the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

"Well, make it move!" Dudley whines as he rapped his knuckles on the glass, knowing full well that the lady who greeted them had said not to.

Both Uncle Vernon and Piers joined in at calling the snake and tapping at the glass, but the snake continued to sleep.

"Ugh! What a boring snake!" Dudley groaned and moved on.

Harry, being the kind boy he was, walked up to the snakes tank and sighed softly. "Poor snake. Has to deal with buffoons like them all day."

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.

It winked.

Harry stared. Then looked at me with wide eyes. "Did you see that?" I laughed and nodded. "Looks like you made a friend." The snake turned to look at me and flicked its tongue out to smell the air, I stuck my tongue out back at it with a giggle.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then rolled its eyes. It gave us a look that said: "I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded back.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked and I watched in amusement as my brother talked to the snake. Harry Potter, snake whisperer!

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

"Boa Constrictor, Brazil." He read aloud so I could know as well, before looking at our new scaly friend. "Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: "This specimen was bred in the zoo... Oh, I see, so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind us made all of us jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Piers yelled and ran up beside me.

Dudley came waddling toward us as fast as he could with his rolly polly legs. How he didn't have a heart attack was beyond me.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

The glass which had once been there, had suddenly disappeared, and Dudley and Piers, having almost fell into the tank, were putting up enough fuss to draw Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. I quickly grabbed Harry and pulled him to his feet, pushing him behind me slightly.

The giant snake uncoiled itself from the heap it was laying in, and slowly slithered out and onto the cool floor. Dudley was beside himself, screaming like a little girl, and Piers had nearly fainted.

The snake slid by us, giving one more wink as it went. Harry and I looked at each other with wide eyes when we swore we heard the same thing.

"Brazil here I come... Thhhanksssss amigossss."

The two of us looked at each other.

 _Had the snake just talked!?_


	3. Book One: Chapter Two

**Book One - 2. Violet Potter and the purple ink letters**

After the snake fiasco at the zoo, a few hours spent in the zoo directors office with Aunt Petunia practically weeping over her child almost being attacked by a snake, Dudley bragging about how he could have fought it to death, and Vernon's incessant arguing, they finally head home. Piers mother had been called and she had picked him up from the zoo, leaving Harry, Dudley, and I in the middle, in the back of the car.

Uncle Vernon waited patiently until he was inside the house to unleash his rage on us. He was so angry he could hardly speak. "You!" He pointed at Harry. "This was your fault wasn't it!"

"I didn't do anything!" Harry cried and I grabbed his hand.

Uncle Vernon wouldn't let up though, "Piers said he saw you talking to the snake! You cursed child! You made the glass away you-"

"I did it!" I yelled without thought. The room went quiet. Aunt Petunia covered her mouth, Dudley was snickering, Uncle Vernon was processing and Harry looked mortified. Why did I just say that? Oh right... To protect Harry.

"Yes I did it! I made the glass go away! I have magic powers because... because..." I thought for a moment. I needed something so preposterous that would surely land me a great punishment. "Because I'm a witch!"

Uncle Vernon spluttered and Aunt Petunia shrieked at the very words. He grabbed me by the shoulder and dragged me to the cupboard under the stairs and threw me inside.

"I don't know how you got such, such... fiendish ideas in your head girl! Don't you ever dare say such a word in this house hold! You'll be in this cupboard for a week! No meals!" He shouted, spitting all over the place, almost as if he was a rabid dog foaming at the mouth. He slammed the door shut and I pressed my ear to the little slits in the door to listen outside.

"And you!" He yelled, most definitely at Harry, "Go up to the bedroom and stay there!" Harry seemed to hesitate, but I heard footsteps go up the stairs and a door close softly.

This made Dudley whine, because the room Harry was being sent to happened to be Dudley's second room for all the toys he had either broken or abandoned. Luckily it had an actual bed that Harry could sprawl out on.

Uncle Vernon sent Dudley off to play computer games in his room, and only he and Aunt Petunia were left downstairs to rant about the stress of the day.

"One Potter child is enough! But Lily and James had to have two!"

Lily and James. That was about all I knew about my parents. Their names, besides the fact that they had died in a car accident and that, according to Aunt Petunia, I looked exactly like my mother had when she was young. She would say it in a sort of disgusted tone, and although I knew she meant it as an insult, I took it as a compliment. I had never seen a photo of my parents, but I would much rather look like them then my Aunt and Uncle.

I lay there pondering all the weird things that had happened between Harry and I, and how this may be by far the weirdest. A talking snake? Everything that had happened before, may have been a fluke. Maybe Harry's hair grew fast in one night due to genetics, maybe the roses I had gone to sheer had never actually been dead, maybe the bird who got better had never even been hurt... But a talking snake defied all realms of possibility.

It wasn't until after I had heard dinner finish and everyone had head to bed that I heard Harry. But not in person, no. Harry was tucked away safely upstairs in Dudley's second bedroom. What I mean is that Harry and I were weird in one other way; if we really concentrated, we could talk to one another in our heads. Of course we had never told anyone about this, and any time we tried to figure out what was going on at the school library, the only thing we found was "twin telepathy". We could only be so far away to do it, and we had to be very concentrated, but I suppose twins are just more connected in some ways.

 _You shouldn't have done that for me._ Came Harry's voice in my head. _You'll be stuck in there without food for a whole week. I don't think he was lying._

 _It's fine._ I thought back, curling up on my side. _Besides, now you get to have a nice bedroom. I can keep myself company with my books._

Ever since I was young and could first understand the alphabet, I had liked reading. I liked it because every new story brought my mind farther and farther away from 4 Privet Drive and the Dursley family. Obviously Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't support this hobby of mine, and would never buy me books, but there was enough books within the house that Dudley had got but never used that I could sneak a few away. Harry always supported me though. He liked books alright, but he hadn't the passion for them like I do. He much preffered I read them to him so he could day dream about the words I spoke.

One night, I had been reading to Harry a book about hobbits and elves and wizards on a quest to destroy some evil ring, when Uncle Vernon had opened the door and caught us reading by flashlight. He had taken my book and any other ones he found laying around and had put it up so high on a shelf that if I had tried to get it, he would hear. I had cried for days, and had been bored out of my mind, until a week later Harry came in after saying he would be going to the bathroom, but instead returned with sheets of paper. I still don't know how he did it, but Harry had found a way to climb and get the book, had copied word-for-word a few chapters of the story on scrap paper and had brought it to me. The book didn't even look like it had moved from its spot, so Uncle Vernon wouldn't be suspicious. I had hugged Harry so hard and cried for a whole other reason that night.

 _Are you sure?_ Harry thought to me.

 _Yes! I promise! I'll be fine in here... It is a bit lonely without you though_. I replied.

It was as if I could hear Harry chuckle and then feel him nod in agreement. _Read to me?_

I smiled and crawled over to the edge of our thin mattress and peeled it back to find a worn book laying there. "The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood" was one of my absolute favourites. Something about a hero who wasn't always doing good things, but did them to fight for justice, really got to me.

 _Alright. Here we go. Chapter Ten..._ I read to myself and to Harry's mind.

The rest of the night was spent with us giggling over the story until we were too tired to stay awake.

* * *

A while later in mid July, after I had been thoroughly punished for the snake incident and then once again for accidentally breaking a fancy china dish, Harry and I were helping get dinner ready.

I was mashing potatoes, a job I actually liked to have because I could look down at all the little potatoes and pretend they were Dudley's face as I smushed them, and Harry was putting green beans on the table.

Aunt Petunia was baking pork chops, which she believed was far too important a job to leave to us. She was also watching as Dudley paraded around the dining room and living room in his new, ugly looking Smeltings uniform. I mean, who chose maroon and orange as their school colours? Smeltings was a private middle school for kids with money. Uncle Vernon, who was an alumni of such a school, watched with pride as his son swung around his Smeltings stick, a long fancy piece of wood the kids were allowed to carry to bat at each other with when teachers weren't around.

Harry and I would be attending no such place. Instead, we would be heading to Stonewall High, a middle school for those without money to throw around on expensive uniforms and fancy beating sticks. Our uniform was supposed to be soft grey sweaters and pants, but Aunt Petunia assured us that dying Dudley's old clothes grey would suffice. We weren't too excited for school, evidently.

"Look at my little Duddy-Duddy, looking all grown up with his uniform! So handsome!" Aunt Petunia crooned.

"Looks just like his father!" Uncle Vernon chuckled from the dinner table.

Harry and I made eye contact and both groaned in disgust.

From the front door we all paused when we heard the audible click of the mail slot.

"Get the mail Dudley." Uncle Vernon said as he raised his newspaper.

"Make Harry do it!"

"Get the mail Harry."

"Make Dudley do it!"

"Smack him with your Smelting stick Dudley."

"I'll get it." I sighed and put the pot of smushed up potato-dudley-faces on the table.

There were four things laying on the doormat when I got there; a postcard to Uncle Vernon from his sister Marge who was on a vacation, a brown envelope that looked like a bill of some kind and two pristine white envelops. One addressed to Harry and one to myself.

We had never had any mail addressed to us at all. We didn't;t even know enough people to have anyone to write to us. Yet here they were.

 _Ms. V. Potter_

 _The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

 _4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging_

 _Surrey_

The exact same was written on Harry's except with his name written instead of mine. Both envelopes were thick and made of beautiful parchment that just felt good under my fingers and had an odd thick wax seal on the front. My note had been scrawled with a beautiful purple ink, just like the colour of my name. Harry's was written with a gorgeous emerald green ink, the colour of our eyes.

Too excited to speak, I mentally called for Harry. _Harry! You wont believe it! We got mail,_ _ **us**_ _!_

 _What!?_ Came the surprised voice back and she heard him scurry through the kitchen to come see.

"Letters." He whispered. "For us?"

I nodded and handed him his. He looked just as shocked as I did, eyes wide like an owl. "There's no return address or stamp." I whispered back.

"I wonder who its from."

Dudley, obviously having missed his two favourite punching toys suddenly came from behind us and snatched Harry's letter from his hand.

"What's this!?" Dudley yelled in confusion.

"Hey! Give it back!" Harry yelled.

Dudley sneered. "Nuh uh!"

I stepped forward, "Dudley, if you don't give Harry back his letter I'll shove that Smeltings stick where the sun dont shine!" I didn't exactly know what that meant, but I had heard it from the TV one night when Uncle Vernon was watching some mafia movie.

Dudley looked horrified, but instead of giving Harry the letter back, he spotted mine and snatched it as well, turning and running as hard as he could to the dining room.

"Dad!" Dudley yelled and Harry and I looked at each other and both then ran after him. "Dad! Harry and Violet got something in the mail!"

Uncle Vernon scoffed at the idea, but then paused when he saw that Dudley, in fact had two letters that did not fit in with the regular mail. "Give them here boy!" He said and took them, opening mine. One look was all it took to drain the colour from Uncle Vernon's face and I couldn't understand why. He tore Harry's open as well and looked absolutely ghostly.

"Those are ours! Give them back!" I demanded in my best authoritative voice, but it didn't work.

"P-P-P-Petunia!" Uncle Vernon cried, as if he hadn't heard me.

"What is it dear- OH!" She shrieked as she peered over his shoulder.

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Dudley and I were even still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored, especially by his parents. He gave his father a swift whack on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

"No, I want to read it," said Harry furiously, "they're mine and Violets!" I couldn't have agreed more.

"Get out, all of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he yelled "OUT!" In his most serious tone, the one that sounded like a drill Sargent, so we all quickly fled, but as soon as they had shut the living room door behind us, we all pressed to it. Dudley claimed the key hole, so Harry lay on the floor, ear to the crack, and I pressed myself against the hinges in hopes to hear.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address, how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching, spying, might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly like a lunatic.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-" but she was quickly interrupted. "No," said Uncle Vernon. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything..."

"But -"

"I'm not having one, much less _two_ of them in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?" Vernon was huffing, and when we all heard his heels clicking closer, we scurried away, Harry and I back to our cupboard and Dudley off to who knows where.

We were informed by Aunt Petunia that we would be staying in our cupboard until further notice. Which could be days, we knew from experience. Harry and I didn't even know what to do. Our heads were too much in a tizzy for books or imagination at all.

"Who would mail us?" I asked. If I could pace, I would, instead I settled for rolling around on the mattress until my head landed in Harry's lap and I looked up at his be-speckled face.

Harry shook his head. "I'm just as confused... but one things for certain-"

"We have to get those letters." We said at the same time, but Uncle Vernon had gone to work, and we both knew they would never leave something behind that was causing this much fuss. So it was a waiting game.

"So tonight, we'll sneak out of the cupboard?" Violet asked.

Harry nodded. "We'll search the whole house if we have to. We have to know what's in those envelopes."

But they didn't need to wait long, because when Uncle Vernon came home from work, he opened the cupboard under the stairs and looked at us. We blinked in surprise. He never did this.

"Where's our letters!?" I asked instantly.

Harry quickly added, "who's been writing us?"

"No one!" Uncle Vernon said a bit too quickly. He cleared his thick throat and huffed. "Addressed to the wrong people. I burned them up."

"What!?" Harry and I yelled in unison.

"How was it wrong! They knew our names!" I urged.

Vernon scowled. "Potter is a common last name."

"Oh sure, because there's another pair of V and H Potters someplace nearby!" I growled. "Do you think we're idiots!?"

"It has our cupboard on it!" Harry joined in my assault.

"Er, yes, Harry, Violet... about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you two are really getting a bit big for it..." _No kidding!_ I thought amidst his rant. "We think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" said Harry, suspicious.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped our uncle. "Now, take this stuff upstairs. Now." He repeated just in case we hadn't heard the first time.

It didn't take us long to bring our belongings upstairs, considering we didn't have many to begin with. The bedroom upstairs was a bit bigger for the two of us, but was the smallest actual bedroom of the house. There was another guest bedroom, but that was strictly for guests which mostly meant Uncle Vernon's sister Marge. We weren't allowed inside because according to Aunt Petunia, Marge didn't want our grubby little hands on anything. It was fine in my eyes. I knew I would have to sleep separate from Harry eventually, but I wasn't quite ready to part from him.

The two of us organized our things and climbed into the double bed, much more space for our limbs. We sprawled out and our bones sighed in relief.

From downstairs we heard Dudley sobbing and throwing a grade A temper tantrum. Every so often there was the sound of something smashing, which Harry and I assumed was Dudley furiously attacking anything breakable with his smelting stick.

We also agreed that we would much rather have our letters than be in the big room, but at least we had this. We went to bed that night dreaming about letters and purple and green ink.

The next morning was deathly quiet. Aunt Petunia hadn't woken us up with her shrill squawking, but instead we came down to breakfast already made and on the table. And it didn't seem like we were having porridge, but rather what everyone else was having. Harry and I squeezed each other's hands and sat next to each other, confused.

Dudley also seemed quite taken aback. No amount of crying or whinging would get him back his second bedroom, and the fact that we were having the same food as him off the same plates was preposterous.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to us, made Dudley go and get it. We heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive . And another for Violet!"

The room suddenly turned into a disaster. Harry and I jumped from our seats, but somehow Uncle Vernon, the great oaf, was faster. We ran after him and just as he snatched the letters from Dudley, we launched our formulated attack. It's like we just knew. Harry grabbed him around the neck and shoulders and I went right for the shins. All of us quickly came tipping down, fighting for the white parchment letters covered in purple and green ink.

After a long winded, confusing scuffle where I got smacked with the smelting stick on the shoulder enough times to give a bruise, Uncle Vernon threw us off of him and wheezed, "Go to your cupboard, I mean, your bedroom," then turned to his son "Dudley, go, just go."

Harry and I stayed up late that night formulating a new attack strategy. The next morning at 6am we snuck from bed and down the stairs to the door, but we were already beaten there by Uncle Vernon who was asleep at the mail slot. Already in his lap was six letters. Three of which were addressed to Harry in green ink and the other three in purple. He woke with a start and glared at Harry and me.

"We want-" Harry began but before he could say anymore, he was already ripping them to shreds.

Uncle Vernon didnt go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot. "See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, but it was fruitless.

On Friday, more letters made their way into the house through crooks and crannies of doors and windows. Uncle Vernon boarded those up too. On Saturday they came down the chimney. He covered that with a thick piece of wood. Sunday, he thought he would have a reprieve, as no mail came on sundays, but he was wrong.

Windows were thrown open and a gust of wind brought in hundreds. Harry and I desperately tried to grab some but were unable. We watched as Uncle Vernon slowly drove himself mad.

One day, a few days before Harry and my birthday, he woke us up with a start, demanding we all pack our bags and telling us we wouldn't be back for a while. He drove us every which way. First we stayed in hotels and motels, but the managers would wind up bringing us letters. Then we stayed in a small village secluded from others, but the milk man brought along letters too. Uncle Vernon was beside himself. He was twitchy and angry and completely insane.

The final destination took us to a private island the day before Harry and I's birthday. It was in the middle of nowhere and had to be accessed by a boat. While Uncle Vernon was rowing us there, we heard him mutter: "storm coming in... can't find them here... can't follow.. no mail, no mail!"

The inside of the seaside shack was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms, a poor excuse for a den and a single bedroom, so that night Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon whisked off to the only bed, and Dudley got the creaking, worn down couch. That left Harry and I to find the least dirty bit of floor there was in this place to settle down.

The wind was freezing and storm was howling outside. Harry and I only had one blanket to share and it was shoddy to begin with. So instead of sleeping, we curled up next to each other on the floor and drew designs into the dust laying there. Harry was drawing a birthday cake and I drew balloons.

"It's not every day you turn eleven and are whisked off to a murder island by your deranged uncle." I whispered to Harry in attempt to cheer him up a bit. He had been so down lately and I understood why. We both wanted, no needed, desperately to know who was sending these letters and what was inside. Now it seemed like we wouldn't get the chance.

Harry's face cracked a bit of a smile and he looked at me. "Life would be a lot more sad without you." He laughed quietly.

"Life would be a lot more boring, you mean." I teased.

"Yeah yeah." He smiled and then lay back on the ground. "How much longer?"

I crawled quietly over to the couch, peering at the digital watch on Dudley's fat wrist.

"Five minutes." I sighed and crawled back.

"For some reason, I felt like everything might have changed for us when we turned eleven. I guess I was wrong." Harry mumbled.

"Somehow I felt the same." I agreed and rest my head on his shoulder. "Three minutes."

There was a crash outside that made us both jerk. "What was that!?" I hissed.

"It couldn't be something? Could it? We're on a private island for goodness sakes!" Harry said back in a hushed tone.

I looked at Dudleys watch. Two minutes until midnight.

Another crash and I grabbed Harry, trying to secure him beside me.

One minute.

"I swear there was something there." Harry whispered.

Thirty seconds.

Ten.

Five.

Three... two.. one.

 _CRASH._


End file.
